


Emotions

by abbyisnotcool



Series: Reunions (It) [4]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alive Stanley Uris, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bill Denbrough loves Stan, F/M, Heavy Angst, M/M, Sad, Self-Harm, Stanley Uris Takes a Bath, Stanley Uris-centric, Stenbrough, Suicide Attempt, This is really triggering jfc, Very triggering, based mostly off the book, fhafh, fluff???, oof, this is really sad please be warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 15:57:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14772686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbyisnotcool/pseuds/abbyisnotcool
Summary: Stanley Uris... felt nothing.He has been like this for a long time. Since college. Since as long as he could remember without getting dizzy and blanking.He can’t remember his high school, nor could he care....But he does.





	Emotions

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS: pill induced suicide attempt, self-harm, VERY DESCRIPTIVE
> 
> please do not read if you get triggered easily

Stanley Uris... felt _nothing._

He has been like this for a long time. Since college. Since as long as he could remember without getting dizzy and blanking.

He can’t remember his high school, nor could he care.

...

But he _does._

_Oh God_ , does Stanley Uris care.

He wants to feel again. He knows he could at one point, a love so strong, a fire would burn through him. A burning love. When he tried to remember that feeling, the _color Auburn would appear, filling his vision, rain started to patter against his skull, and the smell of blood filled his lungs_. He relished this feeling, recoiled at stench, and felt terrified.

Stanley spent his college years... _floating_. Nothing felt real, and he just got his degree and a job. He didn’t care. He didn’t feel miserable, or unhappy. He just felt... _empty_.

Then, he met Patty.

...and nothing happened. He still felt so... empty. But he _hoped_. He hoped to whatever God he still believed in, that this beautiful woman would start up his heart again, make his lungs lose his breath, and allow him to collapse, overwhelmed by love.

Stanley was sure of it. Her short, Auburn hair and dazzling blue eyes, made him sure of it. He felt so, so _close._..

And he fell short.

 

_ He.  _

_ Still. _

_ Felt. _

_ Numb. _

 

Yet, he still married her. Stanley was so sure that one day, a spark would start.

It’s been 4 years, and _nothing_.

_Absolutely nothing_.

 

_He lied about his happiness, pretended to smile, pretended to be aroused by her, pretended to be sad for her, pretended to pay attention to her life and everything around him._

 

But he didn’t.

It was just clock work.

_ Over. _

_ And over. _

_And over._

* * *

 

Stanley Uris looked into the mirror at 4:29a.m., pondering his existence. _Only Patty knew he existed. Would anyone care if he died? She would get over it. God would take me i_ n. 

_ This planet doesn’t need me. _

But then he stared at himself, and felt something _unsettling. He felt, scared of death._ He felt as if, someone was begging him **_not_** too. Someone he had met, who had _loved him_ , who had cared. And he laughed at the thought, for, _who would care about Stanley Uris_?

 

_ The Jewish boy with the crooked nose? _

_ The Rabbi's son who couldn’t read in Hebrew? _

_ The husband who couldn’t love his wife? _

_ The gay bo-? _

 

Stanley cut himself off. He opened the medicine cabinet, and grabbed his prescription bottle. He held it with shaking hands, and popped open the lid. He stood there, hands shaking, pills rattling in the bottle.

Stanley was going to poor them into his hand, and just finally fucking end it all. _His miserable life, come to an end! It was wonderful!_

He held on of the pills between his fingertips, colors fading like his will to live... _funny, huh_? Stanley stood there, hands shaking, rolling the pill between his thumb and forefinger, and stared into the mirror. He thought he saw something behind him, **_mocking him_** , saying _he wouldn’t do it, he was too much of a coward_. Oh, but it was _wrong_! Stanley Uris will end his miserable fucking life!

But... he _couldn’t_. It was like an invisible hand was holding him back, like someone was holding his waist, whispering words of comfort. He suddenly remembered a circle of kids, and how he joked about slitting his wrists with a piece of glass.

Stanley stared into the mirror, and he saw something different this time. He was younger. _And everything was different_.

 

_ A boy stared at him, and stepped over. He took the glass from his hand, and held it. His warm palm grabbed his, and smiled carefully at him. _

_“Stan, we all love you. I love you. Don’t.”_

 

_Stan_.... he doesn’t even know who that is anymore.

 

_He downed the pills_. 

The unbearable _stench of blood again filled his nostrils, his heart started to burn, and his mind created static. The mirror started to contort, almost like blood was covering it. He gripped the sink as he shook violently, and soon he couldn’t bear it._

_ The boy was back, and it was almost like he was screaming, begging him to not go. That his life was worth living. The stench was filling his nostrils, and he could smell blood, sewage, and a field of wheat. He saw auburn and dark green, not able to make out shapes. He looked at the mirror once more, and saw himself, a child, sobbing. _

 

He put the bottle down, and vomited into the toilet.

The next morning, Stanley Uris was _fine._

The next afternoon, Stanley Uris bought a pack of razor blades. And they would wait.

 

_ But, he still lived. _

_ Isn’t that what mattered? _

* * *

 

He started cutting his thighs soon after. Stanley liked the feeling of pain. It was the only thing he could feel after all.

 

After one night, while he sat on the same toilet his thighs and wrists covered in lines of blood, dripping to his elbows, he wondered if he should get a therapist. But he just sat there, watching the blood fall to the floor. 

 

_ Drip _

_ Drip _

_ Drip _

 

This continued for awhile, and Stanley Uris felt better than usual. At least he could fucking feel _something_.

* * *

Another night, he sat in the living room, Patty asleep again, and really thought about what happened in that bathroom 4 months ago.

He tried to remember the toxic smell, and the visions he had. Stanley’s skull hurt. It felt as if something was trying to tell him something, begging him to remember anything. But he couldn't. So he wondered.

Wondered how love would feel.

Stanley imagined it would be someone curled up at his side, holding his wrists that hurt so much from the 3 day old cuts. Looking at him, without pity, but hope. Someone kissing his cheeks and telling him everything will be fine. He imagined it so clearly, felt it in his soul. _Someone loved him. Someone did, at one point. What had happened_?

 

_ He made 3 more lines on his thighs that day. _

* * *

The next night, he sat, again, awake from taking about 3 naps in one day. Patty is worried about him, but Stanley could care less. He skimmed through pages of a book, detailing  his favourite birds, and showing pictures of them. He circled the ones that he liked the most. Most of them were from Maine, for that’s where he grew up. He smiled fondly at the pictures.

 

_ Lazuli Bunting, Northern Mockingbird, Veery, Burrowing Owl, Golden Eagle, Gyrfalcon, and Common Nightingale _

 

Each of them reminded him of something, though it was never clear. That night, he could remember. Stanley wrote it all down and examined it:

 

> _The Lazuli Bunting was bright blue and orange. It reminded him of blue eyes and a fierce smile. A person who would never leave him behind, not on purpose. She was beautiful, and they all knew it. She was hurt though, mentally and physically. She would never get over it._

 

> _ The Northern Mockingbird would never shut up. It would just sing and sing, even if the other birds wanted him to keep quiet. Sometimes, he thinks it would be better for him to stop singing forever. They would never want him to stop singing though. They like his jokes.  _

 

> _ The Veery is tiny, so tiny it could fit into the palm of your hand. Its eyes were large, doe eyed. But it was strong, flying at 285 km in one night. Don’t underestimate him. But he cares. And he is held back by his fears. But he keeps trying. _

 

> _ The Burrowing Owl was intelligent and large, and many hated him for it. He was smart, smarter than you’d think. Without him, everyone would fall apart. He was like the mom, but terrified of every movement. _

 

> _ The Golden Eagle was courageous, facing his fears everyday. Diving head first, not worrying about himself. He saw death everyday, was seen as not beautiful for not being as pristine as the bald eagle. But they all loved him anyway. _

 

> _ The Gyrfalcon was protective of everyone, and the biggest out of all of them. He was strong, stronger than most, and watched over everyone. Without him, they wouldn’t have gotten into this mess. But they love him.  _

 

> _ The Common Nightingale symbolizes love and longing. Waited for the Gyrfalcon to come find him, for someone to come find him. But he was alone. Alone in the woods with The Raven. He sang his sad tune one final time, hoping for one of them to hear him. _

 

Stanley thought about this, for a long time. Why was this so _familiar_? Why did this feel _right_? He felt he could name each bird and not even question it. Stanley put his pen down, and imagined them all together for one night.

And it felt _perfect_.

* * *

The next morning, he woke up to a cold and empty bed. Patty was probably making breakfast. He went through his routine, showering and greeting her with a kiss. They ate, and he went to his office to continue working on paperwork for his boss.

 

_ Clockwork.  _

 

But... something was _different_. At about 3:46pm, Patty knocked on his door. 

“Come in!” He said without turning. She opened the door by a crack, and said something very... _confusing_.

“Someone’s here to see you.... a man named _Bill_?” Stanley stopped. The stench appeared, and Auburn seeped into the edges of his vision. _Why was this happening now? With a guest over?_

His head was pounding, but he got up from his seat, and walked out of his office.

As he moved down the stairs, he grew more and more nauseous, the smell growing stronger, and his vision filtered completely. Stanley stopped at the end of the stairs, and looked at the couch.

_ A man. With auburn hair. He turned around... _

 

and _Stan_ could feel again.

 

The stench faded away when looked at _Bill_. _Bill Denbrough, fuck_! Stan grasped at his chest, at this overwhelming... _emotion_ filled his body, made his stomach twist, and his face flush. His heart was pounding, and then Bill smiled, and his heart melted. 

Stan doesn’t hear Patty leave.

He just sees Bill, and Bill grins at him. 

 

_ The Nightingale's Gyrfalcon had come. _

 

“ _uhh... hi?_ ” Bill murmurs, so quiet he could have missed it. 

Stan breathes for the first time in what it feels like an eternity.

 

“ _Hey Big Bill_.”

————————-

Stan probably spaced out for half of the... “ _conversation_ ”.  He tuned in when he mention It.

" _Don't tell me.._." He meant it. Stan didn't want to know. He wanted Bill to be in his life, _but not like this_. When Bill nodded his head, immediate panic set in.

This was it. The reason he was supposed to die, the reason he kept the blades in his drawer. He promised, if he ever remembered why he couldn’t feel, why he was terrified every fucking day of his life, he would _end it_.

 

_ Because in that moment, he knew nothing would matter anymore. _

 

“I see.” Stan moves to get up. Bill went as white as a ghost, and grips his wrist as tightly as possible, and pulls. It hurts, it hurts _a lot_. 

He stares into Bill’s eyes, and sees something predatory. Sadness, caring, hope and love. _Stan knows why he put him as a falcon_. Stan remembers what happened after they defeated It. But never has he felt as loved as he did when he looked into Bill’s eyes.

Patty screamed, and he said something to her. He doesn’t remember what. Stan barely remembers anything in the present other than _Bill_ right now.

He says something, and he realizes that Bill must have saw his _wrists._

 

_ Great, now he thinks Stan is a fuck up. _

 

_“You were going to kill yourself if I didn’t stop you._ ” Stan starts to shake. _Violently_. He hasn’t fully realized the weight of what he wanted to do. Hadn’t realized that his life would be over, he would never see Patty again. He looked at Bill, who was now wrapped around him. He felt at peace. He felt... _okay_.

“ _Breathe with me._ ” He does. Stan listens, ~~for once in his life~~. He breathes, slow breaths along with Bill. 

“I care about you Stan. I know the fear that you feel. The terrifying thought of the clown. The painting, being left alone,” Stan remembers the lady, and being left in the sewers. He doesn’t mean to, but he lets out a whimper, “But, we have the losers. You have _me_. I won’t leave you again. I never meant to leave you.” 

Stan stares at Bill. He stares back. He sees so much in his eyes, and the rancid smell is gone. Bill has done something that Stanley has never been able to do _in years._

 

_ See clearly. _

_ Feel. _

_ Sing his song. _

_ To be Stan. _

 

His lip quivered.

“ _I loved you then_.” Stan looked at him, eyes watering. Bill cupped his cheek, and smiled. Stan remembered when he took the glass out of his hands. When Bill told him for the first time that he loved Stan. _He didn’t understand at the time._

 

“ _I love you now._ ”

 

And Stan Uris cried for the first time in 17 years. Loud, ugly sobs. But Bill held him through it, ran his fingers through his curls and wiped his cheeks.

Stan remembered Patty upstairs, and he couldn’t care anymore, as morbid as it sounds.

He pulled Bill into a kiss. Stan could _smell him, taste him, and feel him._ _He felt whole_.

It only lasted a few seconds, but he didn’t feel _empty_ anymore.

 

_ He didn’t feel like Stanley anymore. _

He smiled, eyes watery at Bill. Stan was sure Bill couldn’t hear him at the moment, but Bill told him later he could.

 

_ “I love you too.” _

* * *

While Stanley Uris would never be gone, _Stan Uris_ was back.

He understood he needed help, to find better coping skills then the ones he had at the moment. Stan knew that something was wrong with his head, but that could be figured out later. _He was close to the next step_.

And as he entered the plane with Bill Denbrough, holding his hand...

 

_ Stan Uris knew he was closer to that step than ever before. _

 

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if that was too much. i promise the next one will be kinda happy??


End file.
